


Bad things

by Steena



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crosshairs has no idea about Ironhide's plans, Crosshairs is ashamed to be a bottom, Dark Ironhide, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Even dirtier thoughts, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safewords, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steena/pseuds/Steena
Summary: The Sniper is too cocky and arrogant for his own good. Ironhide sees right through it though. He knows what the little slut needs. It's a good thing that Ironhide is more than willing to give it to him, and show him his place.Sequel to Before the night is over.





	Bad things

He's patient, not by nature, but by long experience. Ironhide can wait almost anything out by now. Waiting for a couple of hours for the newly arrived mech to leave the bar is nothing. The Weapons specialist leans against the wall in the narrow space between the two hangars, hidden in the shadows. He watches Sideswipe leave, but that's just a momentary distraction; the Frontliner is clueless about his presence and heads back for the dorm hangar.

Then finally the mech he has been waiting for exits the bar, flipping someone inside the bird before the door closes behind him. Ironhide watches as the mech pulls out a cygar, lighting it up to loiter outside for a while, looking around as if to find his bearings.

_Probably not even certain what way the dorm hangar is. Sloppy and arrogant. Everything that he has predicted. He'll go down quickly and neatly._

Then the mech seems to finally make out the general direction he's supposed to head, and he stumbles towards the hangar, crossing the brightly lit yard towards Ironhide's hiding place.

_He's nonchalant and probably lazy, of course he won't go for the main entrance at the other side of the building, within the reach of the flood lights. Of course he'll go through the dark alley to take the backdoor. Just to save a few yards of walking._

His dark plating makes it easy to blend into the surroundings, and he offlines his optics to go completely dark. It's not like he needs them, the strong sensor suites for his targeting programs gives him a very good picture of what's happening around him without actually seeing it. Leaning against the wall, Ironhide goes stock still.

Sure enough, Crosshairs comes stumbling into the alley, the smell of high grade and cygar smoke hanging like a cloud around him. The Sniper — Ironhide amused himself with looking up the mech's file while waiting for him, and it's such icing on the cake that the little glitch will be in his unit — passes him without noticing that there's another mech present, and digs around in his subspace for something when he reaches the backdoor.

"Fuckin' 'ell. The fuck is tha' key card?" He mutters with a drunken slur before fishing something out of a subspace pocket, just to promptly drop it on the ground. "Damnit."

He bends over to try to pick it up, and that's when the bigger mech decides to strike. With a swiftness belied by his massive frame, Ironhide pounces. They go down hard, Ironhide landing on top of Crosshairs, and what resistance the unprepared Sniper offers is hardly more than the rush of air when his vents are knocked out of him, and a bit of squirming when Ironhide rolls him to lay on his front on the gravel.

"What the fuck?! Geddoff me!" He snarls, trying to buck the much heavier mech off of him. His field trembles with rapidly increasing fear.

Ironhide chuckles darkly, his spike already pinging a request to pressurize. He tuts in the smaller mech's audial while he grabs flailing arms by the wrists, and pins them above Crosshairs' helm.

"Now, that was a rather pathetic attempt at self defense. But don't worry, I intend to 'geddoff', alright..." 

Crosshairs' field flares with alarm when Ironhide grabs both his wrists in one massive servo, still easily pinning him while he slides one servo down the Sniper's side, under his coat, and across the small of his back to move the coat out of the way. He starts to fight with more fervor.

"Oi, mech, whaddare ye doin'?! Le' go o' me!"

"I know your type, you little glitch: all mouthy and provocative, always picking a fight, because deep down, what you _really_ want is getting it so good in your valve, you can hardly sit for a week. But you're too embarrassed about being a submissive little _slut_, so you act out instead, hoping someone will take charge and give you what you need."

He nudges the mech's knees apart, dragging his servo up the back of a well shaped thigh, up to Crosshairs' aft.

"Ye know _nothin'_ about me! Let go of me. This is against regulations, ye big bastard! I 'ave rights!" 

Crosshairs struggles even more wildly, but Ironhide easily keeps him down with the servo on Crosshairs' wrist-struts, nudging his legs further apart, forcing the mech to arch his back and stick his aft in the air. Ironhide leans forward, pressing up against Crosshairs' back, grinding against that sweet aft, and bites down on the Sniper's neck-cables, drawing a whimper from the smaller mech. His free servo finds Crosshairs' interface panel, and it's hot to the touch. Trailing the seam, he detects a hint of moisture.

"Why don't you call for help then, hm? Surely someone would hear you and come to assist you. Or are you embarrassed about how you've hardly resisted? How you practically are going along with this? How you're getting all hot..."

He hears the grinding of denta while Crosshairs considers his answer. "Ye're my Superior Officer. They would never believe me over ye."

"I'll make it easy for you then," he says, feeling around for the manual lock to the heating panel, "all you have to do to make me stop at any point is say 'Soundwave'."

Underneath him, Crosshairs goes completely still, and his field goes oddly flat. _Good. He's thinking things through._ Ironhide loses his patience with finding the locks — sometimes it would be neat to have slim talons, like Jazz... _Maybe a mod to consider later?_ — and he starts to brute force it open by prying at it.

"_No!_ Stop it!” Crosshairs growls, renewing his struggles.

"You know the safeword if you _truly_ want me to stop, but I'm guessing you don't want that, you little _slut._"

Crosshairs field flares with mortification. "This is rape!" 

"Can't rape a willing participant. But go ahead, yell rape, scream it from the rooftops if you want. Or are you afraid that they'll see it for what it is, what a _slut_ you are, that they will want to join in, and you will let them?"

He catches the flare of embarrassed arousal in the struggling mech's field.

"Frag _you!_ Ow, stop tha', it '_urts_!"

"Then be a good little tramp and open up instead. I would think it would be preferable to having it torn off anyway. Less awkward to be able to shut it later."

"I'm no' gonna open fer ye! I don' want this, le' go of me!"

"Suit yourself. You know what to say to stop this." He jams his digits deeper into the seam as the panel is slowly wrenched open by his efforts.

"Like ye would care?! Like ye would stop fer a stupid word?!" Crosshairs hisses, still sliding his panel open before Ironhide can get a better grip on it.

"And yet you're so afraid that I actually would, you won't even try it, because then you'd have to _ask me_ to continue when I stop, would have to beg for the cock you so desperately want. Like the needy little _bitch_ you are."

_"_I'm no' gonna give ye the satisfaction te 'ave me say it jus' so ye can laugh at me!_ Fuck you!"_ Crosshairs snarls with vehemence that clashes with the need in his field. 

"It'll be the other way around, just like you want it." Ironhide snickers, slipping two digits into the plush, wet heat of the Sniper's valve. "Oh my, you really are sopping wet. A little bitch in heat, ripe for the taking."

Crosshairs whines wordlessly, but his valve clenches greedily around the intruding digits, and his field is getting thick with humiliated arousal. Ironhide slowly pumps his digits, and the arching of the Sniper's back doesn't elude him, the way the mech tries to push back. He pulls his digits out as he pressurizes his spike, chuckling at the disappointed whimper that leaves Crosshairs' vocalizer.

"I'll give you something bigger, you needy whore."

"Stop now! Please, I won' tell anyone 'bout this if ye do, I swear."

"You won't tell anyway, because you will be far too embarrassed by how much you like this. And you still have a safeword if you really don't."

Then he pushes inside, groaning at the slick feel of that rather tight valve squeezing his spike. Crosshairs mewls, unable to stifle that wanton little sound.

"No seal, of course, you little floozy, but you are _tight!_ Bet it was a long time since you got it properly. Don't worry, I'll defile you until your spark's content."

He sets a hard pace, using the little slut as he wants, pounding into the squirming mech. _It has been so long, he had almost forgotten how delightful it is to take what he wants. Should he shoot his load inside the wench, or should he degrade him in some other entertaining manner? So many lovely options.._.

Suddenly Crosshairs' valve — drooling obscene amounts of lubricant already — overflows, contracting around his spike with heavy pulses. Crosshairs' field flares with mortification even as he arches his back to meet the thick spike thrusting into him, and he fails to stifle the cry of pleasure.

Ironhide can't help but bark a surprised laugh._ Such an easy little whore, needing to be taken so badly._ "You fragging _overloaded_, you slut. Talk about a willing little bitch."

He pulls out from Crosshairs' valve, letting go of his wrist-struts, but the defeated, humiliated Sniper doesn't move. He stays there, sprawled on the ground, aft up, his valve still drooling lubricant that soaks into the dusty ground. Ironhide doesn't take any chances though, he pulls out his magna-cuffs and wrenches Crosshairs' arms behind his back before cuffing his servos together. He grabs the Sniper's shoulders, and pulls him up to kneel. Crosshairs stares at the ground, refusing to meet his optics.

"You have a very inviting intake, and I must say that it would feel good to shut you up for a while. Would you cum from having your mouth used too, slut?"

"Please don'..." Crosshairs whispers to the ground.

"You know how to make me stop if you want to, so I suggest you spit that word out before your mouth is too full of cock if you really don't want that." 

Ironhide studies the little slut, kneeling there on the filthy ground, perfectly capable of getting out of this if he really wanted, but shamefully unwilling to stop him. _Beautiful. He's going to have so much fun breaking the little bitch in, moulding Crosshairs into the perfect little fuck toy, teach the Corvette to enjoy being fucked in every way possible, by everyone he decides to invite. The Sniper will be such a good little base whore when he's done with him._

"I see. So you enjoy having your mouth fucked too then, have a cock shoved down your throat, and your mouth filled with cum? Or maybe I should cum all over your face? Mark you, so everyone can see what a whore you are."

Ironhide doesn't miss the sharp vent Crosshairs draws, nor the flare of mortified arousal in his field. He cups Crosshairs' chin to tilt his helm back, pressing his thumb against the smooth plates of the Sniper's cheek to force him to open his mouth. There's something distressed in the lines of that pretty face, something that speaks of an internal conflict, but that's something he's seen before and expected. _Sluts doesn't always accept their place easily, and this mech is too proud for his own good, proud above his station. He will correct that in due time. Right now, though, he has more pressing issues to take care of. Like his hard-on._

He pushes inside slowly, to savor the moment, and to really humiliate the little slut. He grabs on to the Sniper's helm, starting to thrust slowly, gradually going deeper to find the limits of the hot little intake. He doesn't miss the way he hardly needs to force that intiake to stay open, but he keeps the pressure on Crosshairs' cheek nonetheless, because it's such a turn on to pretend that the little whore isn't as willing as he really is. He can go fairly deep before the Sniper convulses with a gag, a shiver wracking his frame.

"I see I need to train you to take it all, but that isn't uncommon. My cock is rather big. I bet you like that. I bet you're running a charge just from having a big spike using your mouth." He says, pushing a pede between Crosshairs' thighs, rubbing his pede against that sopping wet valve.

_Of course Crosshairs bucks agains his pede, rubbing his wet little cunt against the plating, desperate for friction._

"I bet I could make you cum like this. I bet I can fuck your intake, and let you hump my foot, and you will come so hard from it, won't you? Cheap, easy little slut, worse than any bitch in heat." He mutters, and in spite of Crosshairs' growling indignantly, it doesn't elude the Weapons specialist the way he rubs against the teasing pede, or how his field goes tacky with arousal.

He grabs the helm and starts thrusting in earnest, chasing his own overload. _The bitch is free to take his own pleasure if he wants to, but this isn't about Crosshairs' pleasure, it's about his._

"So hot and eager." He groans when he's teetering on the edge, the Sniper riding his pede with something close to desperation.

Then he tips over, cumming into Crosshairs' mouth, and he feels how the Sniper's hips falter in their grinding when he overloads too. He withdraws slowly as he overloads, filling the entire oral cavity of his little slut, the last beads of his transfluid getting smeared across pretty lip-plates. He grabs Crosshairs' chin and forces his intake shut as soon as his spike slips free. Crosshairs' curls his lips, as if he's about to push the transfluid out between his forcefully clenched denta.

"Ah-ah. I suggest you swallow that. But then again, maybe it's your idea of fun to go through the dorm hangar with cum all over your chin, dripping down to stain your chest-plates? It would certainly make a great statement of what you just did though..." The Sniper glares up at him, and Ironhide can't stifle a wicked grin. "You know, that you just overloaded while being fucked in the mouth."

With a hateful glare, Crosshairs swallows the fluid in his mouth. Ironhide grins even wider, then he grabs the Sniper, hoisting him to his pedes.

"You could close your panel if you want to, but I think the lubricant on your legs will give you away anyway. It was a long time ago since I saw someone squirt..."

The humiliation that zings through Crosshairs field is almost enough to make Ironhide hard again. _Not yet. They just have to go to his quarters._ He shoves Crosshairs towards the backdoor, grabbing the Sniper's keycard from the ground where it has laid forgotten.

"Better get this. Don't want you to lose it. Your Superior Officer would have things to say about that... Oh, wait, that's _me!_ Maybe I _should_ make it a lost item? Punish you for your sloppiness..."

"I _'ate_ ye." Crosshairs snarls, probably to cover the aroused flare in his field.

"Ate me? No, you _sucked_ me. But I may require you to eat someone at some point."

The Sniper growls in wordless annoyance, and Ironhide just snorts at that, unbothered. _He'll teach the wench some manners, and he will take great delight in doing so. The feistier, the more fun it'll be._ _After all, how is he supposed to know that someone is alive if they don't resist a little?_ He pushes the mech down the empty corridor, past the doors to the troop dorm halls, and onwards towards the Officer's quarters. His own door unocks to his signature, and then they're inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

"I honestly don't know if you were lucky or unlucky that nobody saw you walking around like this."

"Like I 'ave any options? Ye've _cuffed _me! I's no' like I've a decent fighting chance..."

Ironhide snorts. "I just think it's easier for _you._ I could take them off, but then you'd have to face the fact that you are nothing but a wanton little slut. You'd have to accept your whorish nature and give it up freely, or go back to your own berth with your little pussy winking emptily, drooling all over your bedding, and only your little servo to make a futile attempt at giving you what you need." He presses up against the Sniper's back to whisper in his audial. "And we both know that what you need is a thick cock buried in your wet little valve, pounding you into the berth until you're so sore, you will be wincing for days. But I can take those cuffs off you if you want that. If you want to get on your elbows and knees of your own accord, and let me have at you..."

The Sniper is stiff, his field a morass of conflicting emotions for long seconds.

"Like ye would actually uncuff me anyway." He growls, his snarky defiance back again.

Ironhide smirks, even if Crosshairs can't see it. _His little slut isn't ready to confess his cheap and wanton nature, but he isn't ready to go home yet either. Perfect. He's going to have so much fun teaching the little wench his true place._ With a rough shove, he sends Crosshairs tumbling down on his berth. The Sniper lands on his front on top of the covers, servos still behind his back. He wastes no time grabbing those slender hips to hike them up, putting the coattails to the side to give him access to Crosshairs' array. _ So many things he could do to the little slut, and he _will_ do them all. But not tonight. There's always time for indulgence later on, so he's going to savor breaking and defiling this little whore. Yes, there's so many toys to fill his bitch with, so many other mechs who will be thankful for borrowing his little fuck toy, yet another hole he's going to wreck when the time is right..._

Spike achingly hard, he steps up behind Crosshairs and grabs those slender hips roughly, and shoves into the slick heat of the Sniper's valve. The sound the Corvette makes — muffled by how his face is pressed into the bedding — is nothing but an indecent mewl, and Ironhide grins wickedly. _He needs it so bad, and still he's so recalcitrant. It's so very amusing._

The bitch is good, very arousing. That he's already hard again, already closing in on his second spike-overload for the night is a testament for how much the wench is turning his crank. Ironhide sets a hard pace, rutting into the little slut with abandon. _The bitch will overload anyway, and if he doesn't, well that's his problem. Maybe that would be even better? Leaving the little whore all needy and unsatisfied to come crawling back for more when his servo isn't making the cut..._

His line of thought is interrupted when Crosshairs wails into the mattres, hips jerking through his overload._ Needy bitch indeed. So much pent up want and frustration. He'll be an eager little skank in no time with a bit training and a few good fucks._ Crosshairs' frame slumps as much as is possible when his hips are hiked up by strong servos, big dick still pounding into him. The Corvette's fans are running on their highest setting, his vents are ragged, and Ironhide doesn't give a fuck about how spent his little slut is, because he still has an overload pending. He pounds into that slack and wet valve, pelvic plating clanging against Crosshairs' well shaped aft until he feels the familiar tightening low in his belly, and that already soaked valve gets twice as wet when it's filled with hot spurts of sticky transfluid. 

"Three overloads from being used like a pleasuredrone. Not bad at all." 

He pulls out and steps back, watching Crosshairs curl up on the berth. His field is quivering with self-derision and humiliation, and it doesn't elude Ironhide that the mech is sobbing. The Weapons specialist doesn't say anything to mock him for it. _It's just another step in the taming process. The slut needs to accept what he is, and it can be hard for some little bitches to do that. This one is prideful, it will take some time for him to come to terms with it._ Ironhide grabs Crossahirs' wrist-struts, releasing the magna-cuffs, then he pulls the smaller mech along the berth, cuffing him to the bar at the head of the berth. He stretches out next to the still curled up Sniper, pressing up against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist. Crosshairs doesn't look at him, obviously trying to not show that he's crying.

"Can' ye le' me go now? Aren' ye done with me?" He asks quietly, voice unsteady.

"Evening shift is coming in any second now, the washracks will be occupied. If you stay here, you can come with me in the morning. Officers have privacy privileges, so you can wash up without anyone seeing you sticky and newly fucked. Or maybe you would want them to see what a little slut you are?"

"Wha' do _ye_ care?" Crosshairs mutters.

"I don't, but you seem very concerned about your image, so I thought I'd grant you that favor. Since you're so ashamed of being fucked properly."

"Why would I be ashamed of bein' raped? An' ye're keepin' me hostage, chainin' me te yer berth, like I'm some sort o' pleasure slave."

"You shouldn't be if you really were raped, but I don't hear that safeword either, so this is something else. You know you could be uncuffed and head off to the washracks any second you decide. Yet here you are, waiting for me to use you again, like the little slut you don't want to admit that you are."

Crosshairs settles into sullen silence, his field churning with that self-derision as he processes what was just said. Ironhide offlines his optics, settling in for recharge.

"Ye could a' least uncuff me if we're goin' te recharge."

"Absolutely not. I know what kind of ideas stubborn and prideful little sluts like you may get, and I'm not getting stabbed in my sleep again. Now shut up, or I'll disable your vocalizer."

_Or maybe he should stick his cock in the Sniper's pretty mouth again? It was so good..._ His spike twitches with moderate interest. _Then again, with his little bitch curled up like this, aft pressed against his pelvic plating, it would be quite easy to push into that little port of his. He's probably tight as fuck, maybe even a virgin back there._ Ironhide mentally shakes himself as his interface protocols request to start up again. _The little wench isn't ready for that yet, he's still too unaccepting of his true nature. It would be pushing it too far, and he'd have to start over again with the process, and Crosshairs would be even less cooperative. That ass will have to remain unused for a little longer._

Crosshairs is falling into recharge, probably not aware about it, but Ironhide feels as he pushes closer, almost cuddling up against him. _The first sign of a step forward in the taming process._

*****

He onlines before his little slut, and Ironhide reaches between them to test the Sniper's array. _Panel still open, folds slack and slippery after their couplings last night._ He does notice the way Crosshairs arches into the touch. _When he isn't awake, he doesn't feel the need to pretend that he doesn't like having his valve used._ The Topkick can't resist the temptation to caress the Sniper's port with his thumb, just to see what kind of reaction it brings. To his delight, Crosshairs squirms into the touch, pushing against the digit. _Such an eager little whore, he'll be absolutely delightful when he accepts his role and embraces his own sluttiness._ He backs off again, because it's still too early in the training for Crosshairs to take well to finding out that he's an aftslut too. 

Instead, Ironhide focuses on the soft folds of the Sniper's valve, digits sliding slickly through the lubricant and transfluid. He flicks the Sniper's anterior node and feels how it's getting harder with the stimulation, feels how the valve-lips start to get puffier and firmer under his ministrations as Crosshairs' array starts to get primed. The Sniper's hips starts moving against him. _He's bound to wake up soon, and it's both a pity and delightful, because this little display of how Crosshairs could be pliant and eager will surely come to an end, but then other entertaning reactions will surely be the result._

Crosshairs sighs contentedly, and Ironhide hears his systems start to boot, and he smirks to himself. _Any second now_.

The movement against his servo come to an abrupt end, and Crosshairs jolts away from him, rolling over on his back to glare at Ironhide, servos still cuffed to the berth.

"_Wha'_ the _fuck _are ye _doin'?"_ He snarls.

"Playing with your valve — which you really seem to enjoy by the way, you easy little skank — to get you hot and ready."

"Wasn' wha' ye did las' night enough?" Crosshairs bites out, face flushing with embarrassment.

"I like a good morning 'face as much as anything, and it seems you do too. You're just too prude to admit it."

"I'm no' _prude!_ I jus' like _toppin',_ tha's all." 

_He sounds so indignant, it's so cute._

"A gallon of lubricant says you enjoy bottoming really much too."

_He didn't think it was possible to flush that much. Delightful. Modesty completely wasted on a slut, but it is rather adorable._

Ironhide climbs on top of Crosshairs, easily wrenching his knees apart to position himself between his legs.

"Stop i'!"

"Doesn't it get old? I mean to bitch, and whine, and pretend that you're unwilling, when it's so painfully obvious that you want a big cock in your valve. I mean, I'm still not hearing that safeword."

"Fuck you!" Crosshairs snarls, flushing with embarrassment again.

Ironhide snorts and sinks in to the hilt without resistance. "It's quite delightful to see your face when I do this." He starts to thrust into the sloppy valve, so wet every thrust is accompanied by obscene noises. "You flush from embarrassment, you snarl in humiliation, and your optics are almost going white because you love this so much. Yes, a very willing little slut indeed."

He angles his hips so his pelvic plating mash the little bitch's node every time he bottoms out, and it's very entertaining to watch Crosshairs grind his denta in an effort to not mewl and whimper with pleasure he doesn't want to admit. The little mech's charge is skyrocketing, and Ironhide is getting close too.

_Maybe he should...? Yeah, the slut's reaction to the degradation would be wonderful._

With a last jab of his cock — one that makes Crosshairs lose control of his vocalizer, and whimper loudly — he pulls out and spills his fluid on his little slut's ventral plating. Crosshairs optics goes even brighter with surprise, and then his field explodes with mortification when he overloads from Ironhide shooting his load on him. Lubricant drools out of his valve to soak into the bedding, and Ironhide watches Crosshairs' valve pulsing around nothing with the force of his overload.

Crosshairs whines in humiliation, and Ironhide can't stifle his laugh.

"You really are a wanton little whore. Overloading from that..." He snickers, reaching for the magna-cuffs, freeing the Sniper.

Crosshairs scrambles off the berth, anger stemming from embarrassment on his face-plates.

"Fuckin' _bastard!_" He snarls, glaring at Ironhide.

"Be nice, or you won't get to shower without the rest of the troops seeing you like this." Ironhide warns him, velvety voice laced with danger.

Crosshairs snaps his intake shut, staring at the floor.

"Good little slut." 

Ironhide throws a rag to him.

"Wipe away the worst before you go. There's a tag to the washracks on the bench next to the door. Officers washracks are across the hall, tag in, and the door wil lock behind you. Then bring the tag back here when you're done."

"Ye're no' goin' te supervise me in the shower?" The sneer doesn't fully cover the underlying disappointment.

"No, I need to change the bedding. You're an awfully wet little thing when being properly fucked."

There's a quiet noise of embarrassment, then Crosshairs grabs the tag and heads for the washracks.

_The Sniper's going to be an absolutely delightful little base whore when he's done with him._


End file.
